


He breasts boobily

by Cornflaek



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crack, Gen, Satire, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornflaek/pseuds/Cornflaek
Summary: Sylvain, but written the way male authors write women. This is 100% satire/comedy and not to be taken seriously.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	He breasts boobily

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is @cornflaek. Comments are greatly appreciated, I'm sorry to unleash this upon you.

Sylvain Jose Gautier looked at himself in the mirror, as all young men do. His eyes conveyed clearly that he was prey, built and modeled perfectly to entice men and women alike. His chest, soft and embellished with a dainty bralette, strained against the linen shirt he was wearing, his perky nipples showing under the see-through fabric. He was raw sexual energy, and yet, as innocent as a doe about to fall victim to a vicious, virile bear. His manhood twitched under his trousers, resting attentive between his thick, toned thighs. He smiled at his own reflection, even his teeth were white and straight, just like the authors that usually write these scenes, and his tongue swiped over his bottom lip to create a nice sheen of slick and sex.

His birthing hips swayed as he left the room, sufficiently ready for his day. After all, a man who cares about his appearance is ideal, but they can't _know_ they're attractive, otherwise they're a slut and unmarriageable. As his delicate feet touched the steps of the stairway he had to descend, his musky, sweaty left testicle leaned along, being also perfectly balanced by the equally masculine and thoroughly desirable swing of the right side of the sac, like a hypnotizing flesh pendulum between his herculean legs. Sylvain sighed before speaking to himself, a quirky character trait that made him just as adorable as mildly relatable, and thus granted him desirability to the audience: "My, I wonder if my best friend's balls are as big as mine."

As if the heavens had heard the honeyed words leave his lips and attended to his desire, Felix Hugo Fraldarius stepped out of his dormitory, smelling of axe body spray and a one night stand. Sylvain's golden orbs peered into him and penetrated him deeply, as if he were undressing the man under his luscious lashes. He stepped closer, his creamy skin that was layered over his scrotum shifted underneath his silky underwear.

"Hello, Felix," he drawled every word like they were covered in wine and sex, voice luscious as velvet and always incredibly attractive. Sylvain was lust and dandelion fluff and he knew it, his attitude was just the right midpoint between possible to infantilize and actually opinionated. "Your chest has grown so much lately, I'm super jealous."

His delicate, frail laugh made Felix knit his brows, "…what the actual _fuck_?"

Sylvain, however, didn't care. He laughed endearingly and sexily, his chest bouncing underneath the transparent fabric. His nipples perked up, hard and rosy, ready to be rubbed. "It's just a joke, silly! Anyway, have you seen that Dimitri fellow? I'd love to be on my hands and knees for the king right now, if you know what I mean." And with the way he whimpered every word, mast standing rock hard at attention, it was clear he meant it.

Felix blinked a few times in disbelief, and then he did it again, but it didn't seem to make Sylvain any more surreal. It was like time and space bent around the man to give him an exaggerated photoshopped blur, his buttcheeks wiggled with every movement he did as if they were made of soft margarine and his voice sounded like he'd been edging for the past fifteen minutes.

"…goodbye. I'm not having this conversation with you."

The abrupt end to their exchange made Sylvain's fragile emotions turn, his dumb man brain could not comprehend the idea of rejection. His ass jiggled sadly under his comfortable, but just perfectly revealing clothes, his assless chaps making the bubble of his butt perfectly round and focused upon. "B-but… I thought we were best friends. I guess men and men really can't be friends, huh…" He was right, of course. Friendship between men was always fated to end, for their soft hearts couldn't handle life the way others could, and they would be put back in their natural place of submission in no time. Sylvain's thick member agreed to that thought, nodding and letting the young man know for certain that it wasn't meant to be.

As he fell to his knees and wept, the tears rolled over his juicy lips, and stained the already translucent fabric of his linen shirt, his rounded nipples getting warm and standing at attention while their covering got drenched. His childbearing hips and flawless bottom, eager to finally complete his purpose in life of being a father, made his hips jerk into the air, his yearning to impregnate someone as strong as god intended. Sylvain must recover himself, and just as sure as this story should not pass the Bechdel test, he knew it was time to move on from this, which he decided the moment he felt his rounded breasts resting over his arm, perky and plump like two sweet crabapples. His hair, silky and soft, perfectly framed the daintiness of his face, bringing attention to his magnificent, half parted lips and closed eyes. The expression made him look like pure sex and lust, every part of his being yearned for a man to sweep him away at that moment. He needed to be saved, like any man does in a given moment of his life. For the time being, however, Sylvain would wait, not wanting to come across like a courtesan or a whore.

The love of his life, the man who'd make him whole, they would come someday, he knew. Just as surely as his asshole clenched and whispered dulcet tones under his pants, he knew.


End file.
